A Forgotten Past
by joyfulnoise
Summary: Hermione has long since fled from the wizarding world and into the muggle world, but will she ever return? She seizes the chance and returns back to magic, but many problems arise along the way...UPDATE! 6807
1. Prologue

Prologue

A Forgotten Past- by Joy, aka Joyfulnoise.

Characters to JKR, story to me.

There will be HBP spoilers all throughout the story, so be warned.

Also, this is beyond what will probably happen in Book 7. If all the characters I mention are still alive, I'm a flying pig. But who doesn't want to keep it happy?

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_Ding, ding, ding! The chimes of the alarm clock awoke Hermione Granger almost immediately- they always did. It was the tradition that started every morning for 3 years- 3 years in a boring life. 3 years in a life that this young lady did not want to keep living. _

_She hit the clock with the palm of her, rising out of bed. She approached the mirror with caution, as every other young woman does in the morning. She glanced at her roommate, Marlene. She was still sleeping, just as Hermione had expected. The proof was in the pudding as Marlene rolled over with a snort. Stealthily the witch took a glance from right to left, and a sly grin emerged on her face as she flicked on a light. Marlene groaned loudly and dived into the covers with another noise that was indescribable- perhaps a snore- or a grunt? Whatever it was, Hermione ignored it and picked an item up from her dresser. She started to tame her unruly hair, running a brush through the bushy locks. _

_It did not take her long to dwell on her dreams, to remember the horrific moment she had re-lived the night before. So clearly the scene played in her mind like a music box, so vividly had the cries of defeat ended the dream. She remembered the cry of shock from Harry as he returned, breathlessly. The Horcruxes had been found, a slow, steady process, but none the less still found. Voldemort's defeat had been triumphant- so who was still missing? Ron was weak but alive, Harry was wounded but breathing, but alas- Ginny! The dearest of female friends to Hermione- was gone. _

_Whatever curse the unforgiving death eater had fired had hit her all too hard- and earned her 2 years in St. Mungo's. Hermione had trained to be a healer, but dealing with the care of her best friend- whose condition had not been improving- was difficult. She had fled, fled from the scene in which she could take no longer. It had been 2 years after Voldemort's defeat, 2 years in which she should have married Ron and settled into being St. Mungo's finest Healer. _

_It didn't help that promptly after the dream, an Owl had arrived announcing the sad death of a second good friend- Neville Longbottom. Hermione knew very well why- Voldemort's followers were still trying to spark things up. _

_Hermione wiped a single tear from her eye and dunked the letter into a dresser drawer. She hadn't received an Owl in 3 years, and this was possibly the closest to magic she had ever gotten. Too scared to return, afraid not for herself but yet for her friends- it was all too much for Ms. Granger, whose current occupation was a doctor in a muggle hospital. _

_She wished that her life of monotony had not been upset by this event- but too late. All day at the Hospital, between check-ups and chemotherapy and MRI's, she could not help but dwell back to her forgotten past. _

_And maybe it was time to return. _


	2. Chapter 1: Run In's With Magic

Chapter 1- A Run-In With Magic

"Hello sweetheart! Tell me, Nicole, where does it hurt?" Hermione said, inspecting a tiny young girl rather thoroughly.

"On my arm. And my leg. And my elbow!" Nicole responded, rubbing the great rash once more.

"There, there, don't touch it. That might hurt it." the doctor chortled soothingly. Hermione took a mere glance at the mother of the young girl.

"What's her full name again?" Hermione called, making a notification in a clipboard.

"Nicole Katie Wood." The mother reached over Nicole's weary body and patted her gently. Whatever rash plagued her, it had downright exhausted her and her husband. She paused, then rose to speak again.

"My husband, Oliver- he thinks it's something strange. I took her here instead of, my er, my _normal_ Hospital. He doesn't want to bother the heal-doctors! there."

"Your husband's name is Oliver Wood?" A memory struck Hermione by the nose- Harry's first qudditch game.

"Why, yes. Why, do you know him?" Mrs. Wood said, setting Nicole in her lap.

"Erm, no, don't think I do. Sorry, just a mistake. My bad." Hermione blushed, as she jotted down her prescription and handed it to her.

She settled down on the inspection table, massaging her worn-out forehead. A knock on her door startled her.

"Yes!" the young doctor began timidly, trying not to shake too much.

"Ms. Granger, a young man by the names of 'David Tremens' has arrived to see you. Will you be accepting his visit, dearie, or are you busy with a patient?" the voice called back, not bothering to open the door.

Hermione rose from her seat. "Tell him to come in…my next appointment is in an hour. I've got the time." She headed for a chair besides her desk, and promptly settled herself inside the cushy center.

"Hi, David." She said, trying to manage a smile. The doctor tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Do you need something, or…what?" She got up to greet her present boyfriend, still trying not to appear entirely shaky. He was grinning, a great smile upon his face. He leaned in to kiss her, embracing her backbone and holding her close to him. Upon finally coming up for air, he faced her. He ran a hand through her hair, drawing her closer and closer to him.

"Only thing I need…" he began, eyes fixated where they shouldn't be, "Is you." He breathed heavily in her ear, nipping gently at her skin.

She pulled away from him, stifling her laughter. "I'm at work, Dave! I can't go off snogging you right now! I've an appointment in an hour and I can't be spared of the time! There are records to be made, patients to double check, prescriptions to learn about! Really, Dave, I'd love to, but I can't. Honestly."

"'Mione…" he whined, reaching for her delicate shoulders. Her eyes snapped open farther than they'd ever been.

"Wha-what- what did you call me?" Hermione's heart stuttered in her chest.

"Mione. As in, HerMIONE. Get it?" he laughed, tracing a hand around her hips. She breathed heavily. The last person who called her that had been Ron. Come to think of it, they were yelling, involved in a great row. Of course, afterwards they had snogged like nothing else.

She sighed softly at that memory, beaming at the thought of her red-haired lover.

"Hermione!" he shrieked loudly in her ear like a parrot.

"Mmmhmm?" The young woman said, jerking back to reality.

"Oh! David! Er, um, yeah. You know, I don't feel well. Maybe I'll just…oh dear." Hermione fell backwards onto her chair. He peered over at her, sitting on the edge of the armchair.

"And maybe a quick shag would help…" He said, tracing the curve of her cheekbone.

"Oh, no. I think I'm sick...something like the flu. Maybe it's a new virus, I'm not sure. I might just go back to my flat…I'm feeling very tired and such. Perhaps I should just…uggh." She moaned as she massaged her forehead. Only, despite David's hoping, it was not _his_ kind of moan, but yet a moan of sickness.

He was now leaning into kiss her once more. "Then at least give me a sweet goodbye kiss of affection. You know, to remind me you're still interested." She waved her hand at him.

"No, no, it's better if I don't kiss you, what with the transferring of germs and all. I'll, erm, call you on my phone if I get better. I'd best get home." Hermione said. She had already risen to gather her belongings, and she was currently writing a note to her secretary notifying her of her absence.

"Hermione…" his voice trailed off. "Please...just one kiss. At least promise me we'll have a quickie in the office as soon as you get better."

Hermione shuddered at the thought of going farther than kissing with Dave. "You know, Dave, I'm not always ready for a shag. In fact, our relationship is NOTHING but snogging and shagging! And as for our relationship- what relationship? We never talk, just kiss or fondle. And personally, I'm getting sick of it. I'm not a desperate teenager, I'm a full-fledged woman!" she was beginning to get hysterical now. "And you- look at you! Barging into my office when I have work, always wanting a 'quickie', making me do things in strange fantasies, never respecting my privacy- I'm tired of it! And until you understand that, we're over!" she chucked a clipboard at him, glowering with anger.

"Over...but...wait…you need me- I need you! Hermione!" He stood up, trying to grab her in his arms. She jerked away.

"No! And I'm going to my flat- as a SINGLE WOMAN! WITHOUT YOU, DAVE!" She shrieked, storming out of the office.

-----

She flopped down on her bed, glad to be inside the flat without pesky Marlene over her shoulder like she always was. Massaging her forehead, she knew that deep inside her heart, she missed the Wizarding World. But her patience was low, so she decided she would lie down and nap for a little while.

Her dreams came in waves, long, steady waves of memories where all she could do was sit and watch and long for the people inside of them.

Making new friends on a train, seeing bulging eyes inside a mirror, watching Ron get dragged away by a tree root, watching Harry come out of the maze with a dirty body, holding onto Ron and sobbing after Dumbledore's funeral, finding the locket in the Black's house, discovering Ginny's absence- and then her slow return to health- and then, blood, on Ron's face, he had been attacked by a Hippogriff, an owl concerning Neville's sudden death…

"Oh, make it stop!" She cried from her bed. "Make it stop, make it stop!" Hermione tossed and turned in her bed, trying to forget everything.

Her past was haunting her, and she knew very well why: it was time to go back.


	3. Chapter 2: Butterbeer and Firewhiskey

Chapter 2-Reunited (and it feels so good! P)

**(A/N: This chapter & the ones after should be on a much lighter note, thankfully. Also, a ---- means there's a scenario change, as you may have figured out. )**

It was past 1:00 when she woke. She stirred from her delicate coverings, moving aside layers and layers of blankets to get out of bed. Hermione peered around, trying to figure out why she was in bed and not at work.

And then, it hit her. The dream, her break-up with Dave, leaving work...the whole nine yards. And now, she just had a decision to make: to re-join the wizarding world…or not. Her heart was leaning toward the first choice, but her body was thinking more seriously about the latter. The young witch shook out her hair, timidly walking to her dresser.

Yes, they were still there. Her books from Hogwarts, her robes, her wand, her journals, her everything. She even found a small pouch containing exactly ten galleons, two sickles, and three knuts. Of course, they were all covered with a thick layer of dust, but never mind that. She had more important obstacles to overcome.

Gingerly, Hermione reached for her wand. Carefully she picked it up- and carefully she dropped it. Shutting her eyes in fear, she grasped a hand around it. Immediately sparks flew onto her hand. She shuddered and tried to drop the wand, but her hand would not let go. Cautiously she opened her large brown eyes, fixing them on her wand. More sparks jolted into the air and onto her pale, shaking hand.

"I guess that's it." she murmured. Hermione paused in her words.

"I'm going back."

----

"Think that's about it." the young witch muttered. She had packed everything worth value into three heavy trunks, all of which had been charmed to feel almost weightless. It was pleasurable to use magic again, as if a small hole in her heart of hearts had been filled once more. Her wand had been a bit rusty and her mind, too, but she had been the smartest witch of her age- and now, she was this once more.

Butterflies were dancing a storm inside her nervous stomach, Hermione was far too nervous for anything at all. She gripped the light strand of pearls around her neck, a joint gift from her mother & Mrs. Weasley, whom, upon meeting had found one another pleasurable company. The young woman studied her eyes it the mirror as she stacked the trunks atop one another carefully, holding onto all three with some part of her body or another.

She thought for a moment or two, remembering that Portkeys were indeed a N.E.W.T and above leveled transfiguration- _but bah humbug with that_, she thought. Hermione knew the spell easily enough, and soon enough an old gum wrapper had become her ticket to a familiar place- The Leaky Cauldron. She knew apparating would be far too difficult- well, actually, not for her, but she didn't want to risk it- to such a distance, and so on her 3, she was whisked back toward familiarity.

She landed with a thump in the streets of London, throwing the gum wrapper away with an immediate instinct. Hermione picked up her trunks with a wave of her wand and dragged them to the door of the Leaky Cauldron, opening the door to reveal a blast of hot, steamy air and the stench of, well, a bar.

The young witch approached the front of the bar with hesitation.

"Erm, Tom, do you have a room for me?"

The bartender turned around. "Bless me soul! It's one of the Weasleys!"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "Erm, no, this is Hermione Granger."

He peered closer. "In me old days though I recall seeing you with the Weasleys! Maybe me memories' failin'!

She stifled a laugh. "Yes, you're right. I have come here with the Weasleys a few times in my youth, I suppose."

Tom nodded. "I believed so. And as for rooms- only one left, I'm afraid. Right next door to a charming young Auror, actually. I do believe you'll enjoy the placement, it overlooks Diagon Alley in a rather charming way."

Hermione beamed radiance at him nicely. "I'll take it." She handed him the last of her few saved galleons, a mere bit of sickles, and a lucky knut she had found on the floor.

"This should pay for it, I believe?" The young woman acquired, eyes pouring happiness into his own.

"Ahh, yes it shall m'lady. Now please, go get yourself quite comfortable in our Inn. You'll find it pleasurable here at the Leaky Cauldron!" Tom stepped away to help his next customer.

Hermione practically floated go a seat. "Someone remembers me!" She said breathlessly, eyes aglow as the three solemn trunks trudged behind her.

She settled down into a seat at the bar, asking another attendant for a butterbeer. Suddenly, feeling gregarious, Hermione looked up. "Actually, spike that with a bit of firewhiskey, will you?" She tittered with a giggle, wanting to enjoy her first night with privileges. The attendant looked at her.

"We can't really make the best butterbeer…but Rosmerta did send in a shipment earlier today. Pretty lady, you are of age I presume?" He stared down her shirt until she blushed.

"Yes, yes, of course."

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It had been only 5 drinks through until she felt quite woozy. Around her were two elderly bartenders, Tom, and oddly enough, an old hag.

"Wotcher, Hermione. Haven't seen you in forever, and didn't think I would." the hag spoke up, just as Hermione fell forward onto the table.

"Bless 'er, Tom, she's been drinking in all her stress. Give me a soberizer." Tonks called, morphing back into a friendly looking young woman with heavy pink hair to the tip of her ear as well as vivid blue eyes. She had been on the case for a few remaining Death Eaters when she stopped at the pub to get a drink or two and owl Remus.

The Auror reached forward to pour a small drink down Hermione's throat.

"There, there, sweetheart. Time to go up to your room, without the firewhiskey." Tonks said sternly, turning to Tom with a knowing glance.

"Oh! Hello…Tonks?" Her voice stopped short.

"Yes, Tonks. As in Nymphadora Tonks. As in, curse my mother who gave me an awful name, Tonks. As in, I go by my surname, Tonks. As in, you're busted for drinking too many drinks, Tonks." She winked at Ms. Granger, eyes aglow.

"I'm sorry for drinking…" Hermione's voice carried off. "I guess I got distraught. It's my first night back, you know." Oh, how Tonks knew. She exactly what Hermione had been up to, strange fantasies and all. But like any other good Auror, she would not tell her secrets. She patted Hermione's back gingerly.

"Look, m'dear, you need to go rest. You're tired and distraught, like you said. The Inn provides nice rooms with large beds & I'm sure you'll enjoy them." She murmured, sending Hermione's trunks in mid-air behind her seat.

"Go on, get! Your trunks will follow you upstairs…you just have to walk." Tonks said gently, nudging Hermione from her chair.

----

She had only reached the top of the stairs to discover a tall, gangly red-haired young man turning around as he backed out of his room. In her bubbly spirit she kept walking, not seeing his long black robe or the whip of his head as he turned around.

"OOF!" And in a mere two seconds, they had tumbled over one another in a great, jumbling heap.


End file.
